


Shorter than a Seventh Inning Stretch

by Missy



Category: A League of Their Own (1992)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Casual Sex, F/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dottie and Jimmy have a quick (and drunken) "chat" in the ladies room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shorter than a Seventh Inning Stretch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XII, prompt: A League of Their Own, Dottie/Jimmy Dugan, roadhouse. Thank you to Amber for Beta!

Two minutes, a steamy little jukejoint off the road. Everyone is dog-tired, her feet beating in cadence with her heart, her knees creaking like they’d been wrenched out of their sockets. She would ice it all when she hit the next motel; practice in five hours. She could afford a beer.

It was different now, with Kit gone.

Sometime after midnight she stumbled into the can and there was Jimmy, coming out of one of the ladies’ stalls. Her mouth quirked in disgust and she was ready to give him a fight when he lunged forward and gave her a kiss.

God, it had been so long since she’d been kissed.

They flail-stepped their way backward into the stall, with his hand up her good cashmere sweater and hers down his pants. She squeezed his cock and he got out a good laugh.

“That’s a pitcher’s grip.” She rolled her eyes and yanked him closer, wanting action, not words. He fumbled open a foil-wrapped condom while she showed off her ability to palm

She bit his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing they could have more than five minutes in a stall in the back of an old roadhouse. But Bob…she blocked out that memory and threw her leg around Jimmy’s hip.

“Woaah Hinson,” he begged, but she wasn’t going to stop now – all of the banter and the countermanding and bargaining had been leading to them riding each other against the military issue green restroom stall wall. They gripped and thrust and bounced, and somehow managed to find a messy but mutual orgasm in the wild press.

He pulled out and kissed her forehead. “Remember not to knuckle the ball so hard,” he said, leaving her there in the stall.

Dottie glanced at her watch.

It was all over in less than five minutes.

“Shorter than a seventh inning stretch,” she groused, fixing her makeup. But she smiled to herself. But worth it.


End file.
